Shake it Out
by thetreesyoudbe
Summary: A troubled, silent girl escaping a past that's eating her alive. An angry, broken boy rebuilding a life he's not sure is worth living. An unlikely pair, will they make it out alive? Angst, heartache, healing, and love.  Bella/Jasper AU/AH
1. The Cave

**Title:** Shake it Out

**Author:** thetreesyoudbe

**Pairing:** Bella/Jasper

**Rating:** M (for language, violence, & sexual content)

**Summary:** A troubled, silent girl escaping a past that's eating her alive. An angry, broken boy rebuilding a life he's not sure is worth living. An unlikely pair, will they make it out alive? Angst, heartache, healing, and love. There will be a recipe guide & playlist to accompany this story, check profile!

**A/N**: I won't say this is my first fanfic, but I'm definitely new at this. I always hate when author's put "is it worth continuing?" But honestly, tell me. [= I'd say "be gentle" but who am I to put restraints on you? Go wild!

**Bella**

I took a deep breath and flipped the sign to open. I closed my eyes and let the breath out.

This was routine. I'm good at routines. It's predictable, safe, reliable. It's what my life had become. It was something I could control. It was mine.

It was too early for the bakery to be particularly busy. I made eye contact with Alice behind the counter of the coffee bar and let the corner of my lip lift slightly. Alice was also predictable, safe, and reliable. She was here at 6am to open every day to take her station behind the bar. Her energy and sass is the opposite to my sullen quietness, but it helped to distract the attention from myself. She understood that, she never minded. Alice was one of the few that accepted my condition for what it was and didn't push me or pry… well, not often that is.

She knew the basics of the situation, having been my neighbor and the first person I met upon returning to Forks. Alice had intuition, and my father had a big mouth. What he didn't tell her, she figured out on her own. I couldn't blame Charlie though… he was like me, not much of a talker, but desperate times call for desperate measure and when he saw the opportunity to make me a reliable friend he became quite the chatty Cathy.

He was always there to protect me, even though it had been years since we had spoken, even longer since we had seen each other. He opened his home to me in my time of need and he protected me until the end. He was still looking over me, even now, by supplying the money from his life insurance policy to help me start up the bakery I was standing in now.

It wasn't a large place by any means, big enough for comfort, small enough to still be intimate without crowded. The coffee bar takes up the entire back wall and is connected to a large glass case that runs along the right wall. It was filled with creations that were baked with love, sadness, anger, resentment, melancholy, happiness, and peace depending on my mood. The daily special sign was the main attraction and brought in the majority of my business. Today's special was incredibly accurate to the mood (well as far as a cookie can be). Anxious Apple Hermits.

Peter said he felt something in the air. Peter always felt something, and last night he was bursting with anticipation. It's hard not to be sucked into Peter's moods. Unfortunately his anticipation had quickly turned into anxiety for me.

I used to like change.

But not anymore.

The anxiety was stifling. The need to hide was overwhelming.

I felt it on the edge of my skin, and deep in my lungs.

As I sifted the ingredients together and chopped the walnuts and apples by hand, I tried to stay steady. You wouldn't know by looking at me that I was falling apart. I learned a long time ago how to hide things away. That didn't mean I could stop the tremor that caused the knife in my hand to become unsteady.

I baked quietly and quickly. The shop was due to open any minute. As I took out the last batch and transferred the cookies to the cooling rack, I took a deep breath. One would think I was breathing in the delicious scent of my latest creation. Instead I was trying to find some sort of balance within myself before taking my seat behind the coffee counter.

I kept everything neutral. I didn't want to bring Peter down by my unease. He seemed so sure, so excited. Charlotte humored him, Alice agreed steadfastly that something big was coming, Edward was studying me intensely.

I could tell he had an inkling of my discomfort, but knew better than to raise suspicion.

My heart began beating uncomfortably against my ribcage, harder and harder as the day progressed.

"Soon," Peter whispered in my ear.

I raised an eyebrow, he shot me a smirk. I glared, his smirk grew to a full-fledged grim.

Bastard.

"Five.. four.. three," Alice began brightly, "two.." on one she nodded to the door.

I heard the bell, before my brain could catch up with what Alice was doing.

And then I saw him.

* * *

><p><strong>Jasper<strong>

I dropped my army bag stoically on the ground. This was not where I pictured my brother to be staying.

At first I thought I had the wrong address. I must have checked it twice (and still did a double take) before I figured this must be it.

The bell sounded above my head, wind chimes.

Right of the bat – it smelled fucking delicious. Shit, no wonder Peter was living here. The place was… eclectic if I had to give it a name. Mismatched tables were strewn about, but the majority of the furniture looked to be made up of second hand chairs and couches.

The walls were brick, scattered with various art work, local if I had to guess.

I took in the seemingly endless display of baked goods and felt my stomach grumble. I couldn't remember the last time I ate. Stopping for food was unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. Getting my ass here as soon as possible was infinitely more important.

48 hours and 2800 miles here I was. New York to Seattle. My ass still felt the vibrations rocking my body from my bike.

"Well, look what we have here," Peter exclaimed, his accent as think as his sarcasm, "the prodigal son has returned."

I grimaced, knowing I deserved that. The last time I had seen Peter was 4 years ago, and my goodbye consisted of a harshly worded "fuck you." It wasn't my finest moment, and I had a feeling Peter wasn't going to let me forget it any time soon.

I made eye contact with him over what appeared to be a coffee bar. He flipped up a part of the bar and made a show of sizing me up from head to toe.

"Yep, still an asshole."

I cringed. Maybe this was a bad idea. After everything that had happened I was a loss as to where to turn. Giving Mom a call would have hurt her, more than I already had by severing ties to do what I thought was best for me at the time. Talking to Dad was completely out of the question. He'd made it quite clear what a disappointment I was to him, and let's not forget that whole "leave and you're not welcome back" spiel.

I'd say Peter was a last resort, but if I was being honest with myself, he was my first thought. I didn't know if he'd ever forgive me, fuck, I don't think I'd forgive me if the tables were turned.

My eyes fell to the floor with a rush of shame and embarrassment. This was a bad idea. I took a step back with every intention of leaving when I felt myself being crushed into a hug.

"Welcome home brother," Peter spoke lowly in my ear, "it's about time you got here."

The air rushed out of my lungs and my throat constricted. Keep it together Whitlock.

I took a deep breath to collect myself after taking a step back from Peter. A frown crossed my features as I took in what he had said. Home? About time I got here?

Peter chuckled at my befuddled expression. "We've been waiting for you for goddamn four years, fuck, I've been waiting on you all week."

I let out an unintended snort and felt my eyebrow raise in question.

He tapped the right side of his forehead and grinned, "Knew you'd roll around here at some point soon," he rubbed his hands together with a look of mischief, "now let me show you to your room."

I grabbed my bag of the floor to throw over my shoulder and let a slow smile of relief sneak through.

I kept my gaze on Peter as I followed him, feeling my anxiety release from my lungs.

I barely noticed anyone else around. Finally sneaking a glance through the mess I called my hair that was spilling haphazardly in my eyes.

And then I stumbled.

I felt embarrassment creep up on me again, ducking my head and hurrying past her.


	2. Nights of the Living Dead

Hey guys! Thanks for the support 3 [=

The playlist for this chapter has been updated! Check out the song for this chapter because it rules.

Also, DISCLAIMER: I own nothing... besides this heated mattress pad I'm lounging on & these chocolate pretzels that are currently all up in my mouth. So, please don't sue.. because I really need the rent money I've saved up to move out of this terrifying city.

Chapter 2:

**Bella**

My uncomfortably stinging eyes alerted me to the fact that I had yet to blink during that whole exchange. If it could be called an exchange. He'd barely glanced at me while I stared at him like a wide eyed teenager.

I shook myself out of it. I wasn't a teenager. I wasn't a kid anymore. I grew up a long time ago. Mooning over some stranger was just embarrassing and not even remotely my style. To be fair, I didn't really have a "style," unless you consider staring constantly at my shuffling chuck covered feet while avoiding human contact a style. Then yeah. Totally not my style.

I huffed and pushed my thick George A. Romero tribute glasses up the bridge of my nose.

I heard a giggle to my left and I huffed again.

"Don't get all puffy with me sweet cheeks," Alice remarked as she flipped casually through an issue of Drum! Magazine.

I frowned in response. Was it really that obvious? I hadn't been that bad… right?

"That was beyond obvious," Alice replied to my unanswered question. She was good at that. She adapted well to my silent ways.

I grumbled and lifted my hoodie over my sloppy hair knotted comfortably on top of my head, and let my head connect with the counter with a grimace as my anxiety started to creep in.

What was that anyway?

I felt sort of… tingly. Nothing good came from a tingly _anything_. I felt my chest tighten slightly and tried to breathe through it. Change made me uncomfortable. Ok, understatement. Change made me so anxious that I sometimes couldn't move. Especially when that change was completely unexpected.

I caught Peter tossing the word "brother" at the dirty blonde stranger and considering the incredible similarities to each other it wasn't hard to put two and two together. I had known after getting to know Peter that he had a sibling. He didn't elaborate much given the fact that the two of them hadn't spoken in years, and when they did speak prior to that it had been strained. He wasn't very forthcoming with the details, but the gist was that his brother had made one bad choice too many, and the final one was the nail in the coffin burying his relationship with his family.

But here he was.

What did that even mean? What happened? Why was Peter expecting him? Was he staying here? Peter did mention he had a room ready. Maybe I misheard? Was Charlotte okay with this? Was I getting a new neighbor? How would I deal—

Er, okay. Getting a bit out of control there.

_Deep breath Bella. Do not focus on the things you can't change. Everything will be sorted soon enough, _I soothed my inner anxiety monster.

It roared back with another painful tug in my chest as my breath hitched.

I needed to get out of here.

I shoved back my stool to make my escape and ended up tangling my feet together. This is what Emmett would call a "classic." It was one of my finest… or not my finest. I frowned. Whatever.

A larger hand grabbed my upper arm. My breathing stuttered to a stop as I fought the initial instinct to rip my arm out of Edward's hold.

"I've got you," Edward breathed out before righting me into a solidly balanced standing position.

Edward always got me.

Our relationship had a rocky start. Edward and Alice were best friends and had been since they were both in diapers. When I showed up on my father's doorstep a semester into senior year in Forks and began my friendship with Alice, she assumed that Edward would also become a close friend.

Wrong.

It had taken Alice six months before I was able to speak actual words to her. With Edward… well. Our friendship was definitely a marathon instead of a sprint.

To say I had issues with the opposite sex would be a gross understatement. Edward was just unfortunate collateral damage.

Alice, Edward and I finished high school together before heading to Seattle to begin college. Well, for the two of them to start college. I didn't really have an interest in starting school, and soon after making that decision I had received the life insurance money, and stumbled upon this old brick building. It was fate. A tragic unfortunate fate filled with loss and suffering, but fate none the less.

After two years of silence I started speaking to Edward. Once I started, it was hard to stop, which I think he was thankful for. He was a trooper through my issues; a trooper with excellent charade skills. But yeah, he got me.

Which was why he was aiming a hefty frown between his heavy brows in my direction. I gave him a small smile letting him know all was good while I brought my hand up to smooth between his brows to erase the wrinkled skin.

I gave a slight tilt of my head to the right and rose my eyebrows slightly. He gave me a grin and grabbed my hand practically dragging me down the hall towards the back of the bakery before stopping suddenly in front of the door leading us to the building connected to the bakery. I used the key attached to my wrist to unlock it before stepping in and taking my first real deep breath of the day.

When I happened upon this building a few years ago, it was attached to the building on the right of it. They were both empty spots, so I bought both. Hey, the economy was great for purchasing real estate. Oh, who am I kidding; I wasn't comfortable with the idea of having strangers right next door. Especially not considering above the bakery and the adjacent building housed two loft style apartments. I clearly planned on living in one, and I figured having a say in who lived down the hall from me would ease my anxiety.

Enter Peter and Charlotte. I couldn't help but laugh when he first entered the bakery. I couldn't decide if it was his child like wonder on his way toward the counter, or if it was the lovely drool path he left in his wake. I was concerned about the latter and glanced around for my "caution wet floor cone."

He quickly became my most loyal customer. Every day he'd wander in for the baked good of the day… as well as one or two of everything else. Honestly, considering his lanky frame it was impressive the amount of food he could pack inside of him. So impressive that he actually managed to out eat and beat Emmett in their latest eat off. By "eat" and "beat" I mean that Peter shoved one more mint Oreo in his mouth before spewing black and green all over my hardwood floors.

He's a winner right?

So much so that I let him rent out the place next door as well as the loft above it.

What can I say? He's a charmer. One I could trust Char to keep in line.

Peter had me talking to him in 3 months flat, but for Peter's safety we keep that little nugget to ourselves. Alice hits hard. Especially when she's got a stick in her hand.

I felt a tug on my hand and shook off my memories to focus on the wide open room in front of me.

I'm not going to lie, besides his sparkling personality, what really sold me on Peter was the fact that he wanted the building next door to be an instrument repair shop. Peter was good with his hands and always said there was a real sense of accomplishment in putting something back together and watching it sing.

I rolled my eyes at him. In reality, it was a big practice space for himself and other budding musicians. The instrument repairs just helped pay the rent, which I gave him a considerable discount on since he let me play whatever my inner music fanatic fancied.

Edward plopped down on a slightly unsteady stool before pointing to the one across from him and the two guitars closest to it. I was not amused by his throw back to our hand signal and charade days, but handed him a guitar before taking one for myself and settling in snuggly onto the small stool.

I glanced up and when Edward caught my gaze he warbled out my favorite line, "they're coming to get you Barbara," before starting to strum.

_Well the high school kids they're all fucked up.__  
><em>_Touching each other, oh my god.__  
><em>_Yeah and forty ounces was never enough.__  
><em>_We want to pass out in your yard, we want to pass out.__  
><em>_Dressing in drag your best friend's clothes,__  
><em>_while boys kissed boys in hotel rooms.__  
><em>_Oh and just when we thought we were no longer lost__  
><em>_they kicked us out into the dirty streets of Atlanta._

I snorted realizing where he was going with this and joined in strumming and singing along.

_So it's Friday night down on North Avenue,__  
><em>_where the gas station parking lot prostitutes__  
><em>_tried to fix their hair in our rearview mirrors.__  
><em>_You know we're just trying to get to the club and shake our asses._

I shimmied in my seat and grinned while bopping along.

_A caravan of kids, some big old mess,__  
><em>_on an old wooden dock, oh we're bored to death.__  
><em>_We've got a bottle of wine, a fresh pack of smokes.__  
><em>_We're going to end up screaming about some midnight garage sale_

_God, put down your gun can't you see we're dead?__  
><em>_God, put down your hand we're not listening._

_The microphone cut off so we're screaming at the top of our lungs._

Edward grinned back while shouting the last line into the air.

_We are born so fresh, a golden__prize__,__  
><em>_until you scrape that knee and quickly realize__  
><em>_that you're lost in a fog on your way to death.__  
><em>_Oh a thick black line, a thick black line.__  
><em>_So you better speak up, better raise that voice.__  
><em>_Come on, scream loud all you girls and boys.__  
><em>_Let's get wild, wild, wild. Let's rejoice.__  
><em>_C'mon, c'mon. I want to hear that fucking noise._

Our voices rose louder as the lyrics flew from our mouths.

_Oh the push and pull of everything, oh this nightmare of electricity.__  
><em>_We are the living dead, yeah the living dead.__  
><em>_That's the way it is. That's the way it's always been.__  
><em>_Oh that snake slithered past my house today.__  
><em>_Oh I heard he caught you on a dark__highway__.__  
><em>_No the clouds didn't part they just grew into a storm.__  
><em>_I can still hear the sound of the rolling thunder._

Edward followed the last line by a shouted, "THUNDER!"

I took over the next verse, singing sweetly:

_God, put down your gun can't you see we're dead?__  
><em>_God put down your hand we're not listening.__  
><em>_God, put down your gun can't you see we're dead?__  
><em>_I said, God put down your hand we're not listening._

Edward came back in with another shout, "Oh we never were!"

We sang together, over and over, "I want to fuck it up…"

Followed by a repeated, "And I feel so alive…"

Before I ended the song with, "And I feel so…" letting the lyrics drift off with the last strum of our guitars.

We were both breathing heavily and smiling like goons.

Yeah. Edward got me.

Well, he had me at least until I heard heavy footsteps pounding down the steps on my left. My face must have shown my panic as I glanced over towards the voices that had now joined the falling steps. Edward frowned and glanced back while Peter and his brother came into view. Peter was obviously ribbing his brother while laughing at his own jokes (something he does often, since you know, no one else will) while his brothers shoulders were slightly raised with discomfort.

Peter beat his brother by a few steps and smiled widely at me.

"Barbara! They're coming for you Barbara! Look! Here comes one now!" Peter proclaimed throwing his thumb back behind him.

His brother stopped on the last step and took in the room, not meeting mine or Edward's eyes. Or, well, _my_ eyes since I was boring a hole into his face, while I could feel Edward boring a hole into mine. This is quite possibly the worst staring contest I have ever been a part of.

"Guys, this is my baby brother Jasper," Peter grinned like a proud papa bear. "Jasper, these are some of the guys."

I felt a flicker of annoyance pass through me when Pete referred to me as "one of the guys," before squashing it down. Realistically I knew it would be best in everyone's interest to make Jasper see me as one of the guys, but it didn't stop the flash of disappointment crashing through me at the thought. Hell, given my appearance I wouldn't be shocked if Jasper really did think I was packing in the nether lands.

I frowned a bit.

Get it together Swan.

In fact, take your eyes off the guy. That's another thing in your best interest.

But I couldn't.

And when our eyes connected I felt the tingles again.

And I felt my eyes widen as he stumbled off the last step, looking embarrassed, while Peter chuckled.

I snapped out of my Jasper induced stupor long enough to realize that it was time to bail, big time. I shot Peter a glare and Jasper a small smile (well, a smile in the direction of Jasper since I was keeping my eyes on lockdown) before taking the steps behind them two at a time. I patted myself on the back when I reached the top for not falling up the stairs. I paused in the middle of the hallway between the two apartments and released a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding.

Jasper.

I felt his name roll around in my head like it was the only thing in there.

"Jasper," I whispered letting the word fill my mouth.

"That would be his name Sug." My head snapped up to see Char leaning against the open door frame to her apartment, "Making some new friends eh?"

I glared at her trying to hide my mortification before grumbling and heading towards my own door and shutting it quietly behind me.

"You know you can't hide forever!" Charlotte shouted to me.

I gave another huff as I slid down the closed door. Of course I could. I was a pro at it. A couple of slips due to some unexpected company didn't mean anything. They couldn't mean anything. Not only would I not allow it, but I felt the need to be realistic about it. It was an impossibility.

I felt that sting course through again.

"Jasper."


	3. Left & Leaving

**Sorry for the delay! I actually have a good excuse... er, explanation! I finally moved out of the terrifying city & into a nice new apartment... that didn't have internet for over a week. I've been dying. Seriously. Dying. **

**But here's a new chapter!**

**I hope you're still reading!**

**Disclaiming: I'd like everything, but own nothing... besides an angry neighbor in Apt 2 who thinks I don't clean up my dogs poo. She is mistaken. I've had my bag covered hand all over that shit. Literally. **

Chapter 3:

**Jasper**

I followed Peter upstairs with more than a little trepidation.

I have been Peter's brother for 24 years, and I still don't know what to make of him. Especially not after everything that happened. To say I've been on edge is putting it nicely. I can't pick up what he's putting down emotionally, and I'm just waiting to be thrown off kilter again.

Coming here a way for me to get some balance in my life, or at least that's what I was hoping to accomplish. As strange as Peter is, I know if there's anyone who can put me in my place, it's him. But again, our parting left a lot to be desired when I took off and I'm not sure he'd want to take the time and burden of being my older brother again.

God. I sound like such a wuss.

"Snap out of it baby bro, it's time for your new life to start," Peter grinned back at me. I hope he didn't mean that as menacingly as it sounded.

I shook off the dread and walked through the apartment door. I instantly loved the loft design, and then felt sick to my stomach. It was a small loft; enough for one open room and a set of stairs on the side leading up to an open bedroom and what I assumed was a master bathroom.

It's all great and homey, sure… but I got the distinct impression this wasn't an apartment built for roommates, unless they're living in the biblical sense (or sin, depending on how you looked at it.)

"Alright, so, here it is, home sweet home!" Peter called out grabbing my attention back to him. "Now, I know it's not ideal for you, but just think about how much bonding we can get down with all of us here snug as a bug in a rug!"

I was hearing that menacing tone again. This time I was sure.

"So, as you've probably gathered, there's only one room upstairs and that's where the magic happens. Oh, and some magic over there," Peter gestured to the couch, "and a bit over there," he nodded toward the table set up by the small kitchen and his eyes seemed to glaze over wistfully before snapping back to the here and now, "Oh, and you might not wanna use that sink – see, Char and I were playing our own game over submarine-"

I think my audible gag brought him back to reality. I didn't really need to know who's boat was floating up in whose shore, or if anyone was trying to get certified in deep sea diving.

"Oh, yeah, sorry… but I thought it'd be neighborly of me to give you a bit of a heads up is all," Peter shrugged like that run down wasn't the least bit disturbing to tell your younger sibling, "But anyway, I can guarantee you that no magic has happened there," he gestured behind me.

A single futon that looked potentially not completely uncomfortable.

"Brand new and everything! Only the best for you!"

There was some more menace showing up again. I had a feeling our "brotherly bonding" time would consist of some hostility and more that a lecture or two.

"Snap! I forgot your present!" Peter exclaimed.

Snap? Present?

"This can't be good…" I mumbled followed by a more audible, "Seriously, how did you manage to know I was coming here, get a place to sleep all ready, and get me a present? Peter, this is out there, even for you."

"Besides my wonderful talent of knowing all, as well as having excellent skills of deduction, I also have an account registered on Facebook."

Queue face palm.

Wait. Less of a face palm, "But I haven't used Facebook in at least a month?" I questioned.

"True. I've been keeping tabs… but _she _does Jas."

I felt my stomach drop. There was that audible gag noise again. My eyes stung. I reached out for the nearest wall to steady my suddenly heavy body as I felt the shame wash over me.

"Still not open for discussion then eh?" Peter eyes widened in my direction.

"Understatement," I responded.

I didn't want to delve into the mess I made of my life for the last few years. I still hadn't managed to get a grasp on who was more to blame – her for the inferno she put me through, or me for blindly walking into hell without a second glance behind me.

I left everything for her. I gave up everything for her. I would have done anything for her… fuck, I _did_ do everything for her.

I made it too easy.

"Ok, enough of that, present time!" Peter exclaimed trying to push away the cloud that had settled over my head.

I took a deep breath and decided to get on with it. As much as Peter seemed to know what was going on at all times, he loved surprises. Receiving and giving them, so I could feel his genuine excitement over giving me, his asshole brother who just showed up on his doorstep, a gift.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when he brought it out.

Wrapped in an obnoxiously bright red bow was my guitar from home; an instrument that I left behind with everything else, but had missed dearly. I hadn't touched a single string in the four years I'd been gone. Not for lack of wanting to, but more or less the lack of inspiration that came from giving your life to someone else. Plus, if I was being a sentimental fool like I often am, it would have felt like cheating on the beauty that sat in front of me.

It wasn't even that impressive of a guitar really. An old Fender my dad used to play when we were younger. Peter and I must have got the music gene because I can't even count the hours we spent learning to play by watching our fathers fingers dance across those strings.

There was that feeling of crying again. Jesus, pull it together man!

I had clearly underestimated how intense this reunion would be for me.

"H-how did you get it here?" I asked. I knew Peter wouldn't have taken it with him, I knew that much. That guitar held too much of the both of us for him to want to play it after I severed our tight familial bond.

"Rosie drove it up here," he replied.

"Rosalie drove this all the way up here? Why? Why would she bother to do that?"

"Because a lot of things have changed my friend. You'll see. And really? You have to ask why she would do that? Jesus Jasper. It's because she loves you. _We_ love you. Did she really do that much of a number on you that you can't even remember what family means?" a bit of anger infused in his tone, I wasn't sure at who—me or her.

I ducked my head again. She had done just that.

Peter took a deep breath before walking over to me.

He handed it to me as he gave me a slap on the shoulder, "Seriously brother, welcome home."

He then walked off shouting something about "getting acquainted with my new home" over his shoulder.

I took stumbled back a few steps until I was close enough to sit on the edge of the futon. Yep, still an insanely uncomfortable invention by man. Really looking forward to resting my sore bones on this _thing_ tonight. I'm refusing to call this contraption a bed.

Beggars can't be choosers.

I settled the guitar on my lap and put my fingers into position. I strummed a few chords. God, they sounded sweet. Peter tuned it up for me. I started messing around on it, just playing a few chords and doing a few picks of notes.

Now the feeling of laughing came back.

This was easy. This was home. I can't believe how naturally it came back. I felt the inspiration I had been lacking. The pull of my feelings coming out on the strings felt relieving.

"_My city's still breathing, but barely it's true,_

_Through buildings gone missing like teeth._

_The sidewalks are watching me think about you,_

_Sparkled with broken glass._

_I'm back with scars to show,_

_Back with the streets I know,_

_Will never take me anywhere but here…" _

I think a part of me always knew this was where I belonged; with this guitar in my arms and Peter listening from the room above.

"_Wait for the year to drown,_

_Spring forward, fall back down_

_I'm trying not to wonder where you are…"_

It was true. I couldn't help but wonder about what she was doing, who she was with; if she found another me.

"_All this time, lingers undefined_

_Someone choose, who's left and who's leaving"_

I chose. It was me who left, but it was her that let me go.

She had laughed. I don't think she thought I actually would get away from her. That I'd be able to. I wondered if she was sitting pretty in New York with that smirk on her face waiting for me to show up at her doorstep like I had done too many times to count.

But I won't be.

I put 2800 miles between us.

I wonder if it would every feel like enough.

"_Memory will rust and erode into lists,_

_Of all that you gave me;_

_A blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest,_

_The best parts of lonely…"_

The pain and the loneliness have to fade away right? I can only hope in time that they'll become eaten away with rust and destroyed over time.

"_I wait in 4/4 time_

_Count yellow highway lines_

_That you're relying on to lead you home_

_To lead you home."_

Either way, I'm home now.

I'm right where I want to be.

I heard a whistle to my right, "Now that's what I like to see," Peter grinned. "It looks good on you."

I felt the heat rise up my neck.

"Oh you two will be perfect," from the look in his eyes I got the distinct impression that he wasn't talking about the guitar.

Peter clapped his hands together loudly, "Well enough of that, we've got places to see and people to get acquainted with."

He started walking without waiting for me to even get up. I followed along behind him, something that seemed to be becoming habit for me.

I heard it before I saw anything. The sound of accompanying guitars and voices rose up the stairs with a passion.

I'd never heard anything like it. I'd never heard anything like her. And when we reached the bottom of the steps, I could honestly say that I'd never seen anything like her.

All I could see was her.

She seemed to shine with a hint of humor in her voice and a smile plastered on her face.

"_And I feel so…" _She drifted off before her eyes snapped up to me.

I couldn't look away. I knew that I looked like a creep. Fuck, I _felt_ like a fucking creep.

For the third, and hopefully final time of the day, I had to internally shake myself to get it together. Girls always look nice, beautiful, alluring, but it's all for show. I knew that too well. I wasn't about to fall into that trap any time soon… but… she just looked so… just… so.

I felt a flush of heat again reaching the tips of my ears.

And when she stumbled past me on her way up the stairs… I swear I smelled sunshine.


End file.
